


Frostbite

by Elsey8



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akechi Goro Lives, Akechi Goro Redemption, Character Study, Healthy Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Personal Growth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:20:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29315472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elsey8/pseuds/Elsey8
Summary: Goro's first pair of gloves were a gift from Shido. He used them to form his mask.When left unmasked, he reevaluates his values.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 13
Kudos: 139





	Frostbite

Goro’s first pair of gloves were a gift from Shido. 

He never had any during the cold months, no warm pair of mittens to shield his hands from the bite of the air. The best he ever got when he was younger was layers so he wouldn’t freeze to death. But that was never the problem, the problem was always that his extremities would get colder than anything else. 

He remembers holding his hands close to his body, watching them slowly but surely turn blue despite his best efforts. In the end it never made a difference, it would only make him colder in his feeble attempts. 

The second meeting he ever had with Shido, a simple pair of black gloves were handed over to him. Well, he’d stood in Shido’s office, and the gloves had been slid across the desk towards him. Still in their package, unopened, recently bought. Had Shido gotten them just for him? 

Goro obsessed over it for a good while. 

They had fit him so perfectly, slid over his hands like a second skin. 

“Wear those from now,” Shido had told him. 

He hadn’t said why, but Goro listened to him anyway. He didn’t need an explanation, what would that change? Goro was fifteen, and despite himself he craved his father’s validation. 

After everything, he was still a stupid kid who wanted attention. He was still willing to do whatever Shido told him to do just by virtue of the praise that he knew would come in after. The kind words always padded the threats, and Goro was too young and alone to do anything but take it. 

His plan was never going to work, and Goro doesn’t know if he ever thought it would. 

Goro’s gloves became a staple in his persona, keeping a barrier between himself and everything else. He isn’t sure if that was Shido’s plan, or if he did that all on his own. He feels that way about a lot of things that happened. 

Every time he shook someone’s hand, went into the Metaverse, stood in front of Shido clenching his fists...it covered him. Like a safety blanket, it provided that level of comfort. It made things easier in a way, and yet so much harder. 

Distancing himself came at a cost. 

He could hold a mask over his face all he wanted, but everyone does that. So few people show the world their true self, that was never the part that mattered. People are multifaceted, and they’re more than allowed to be. He was allowed his masks, he’d had them long before he ever came face to face with Shido. 

His Detective Prince persona was a lie, but so what? People knew that. Nobody is that charming, intelligent, successful, and polite. Nobody is as perfect as he pretended to be. He knows they all saw past it, knew that Sae saw the slight annoyance that would slip through his mask while he was still getting used to it. He knew that Shido would watch the mask change and shift as it settled and he felt Shido trying to press it harder on as if he could form it himself. 

In the end, what did that give him? Fame, maybe. Attention, certainly. It led him down the path to collide with Akira, that’s absolutely true. 

It made things easier for him, to pull himself away from it. He didn’t have to think about him doing those things, with that physical wall between him and the deeds. He could dismiss the true weight of things just because it was for revenge. Everything was justifiable if he had that conviction, it could all be written away as part of the plan, part of his plan. He could do  _ anything  _ for that revenge. 

It’s what made him so dangerous. 

Like a superpower, it felt like he was invincible. He left no fingerprints, he had no feeling through the material, he had absolutely nothing and he could still do so much. 

Fine by him, the cost was only any sense of self. Nobody ever gave a damn about him, so why should he try and hold onto something like that? No need in it, no use left in himself, better hand that over to Shido and trade it in for something more. More is always better, he used that justification to throw himself to the wolves. 

Goro didn’t realize how much he felt that gaping hole left until after…

It wasn’t just then. Even before that. There was the moment he shed his glove. 

Sure he did in the bathhouse, but even that was a mask. He ached to bring them in with him, but conforming to norms was more important to him. 

The act of taking them off then was as much of a mask as anything else. 

The moment he challenged Akira, throwing his glove like a gauntlet down for a duel of all things. Looking back it’s so embarrassing, so ridiculous. 

His mask had crumbled, halfway. He’d felt it, just as half torn open as he felt without his other glove. 

He’d thrown it away so willingly, careless to the consequences of letting Akira see too far inside like that. 

It was a mistake, he’d thought. He remembers agonizing over the action, sure things would be ruined. Then the relief that came when the plan came through regardless. 

Now he’s so glad he did that. 

His full mask never would’ve sacrificed the rest of itself in the engine room without the initial break. 

Goro was never free until he was. 

At the end of things, he was standing in front of the very culmination of his hard earned mask. His refusal of it allowed him to steal his true self back from Shido, throw his literal helmet to the side to fight to his final breath. 

The way he always should’ve, rather than roll over and work for the father he was meant to oppose. 

Goro...is an idiot. 

And trading one puppet master for another was not something he was ever going to do. But he’s an idiot for ever going crawling back to Akira for it. It may have worked out for him, but it did not go over gently for Akira. 

Akira holds on like he’s never known what letting go means. His hand fits Goro’s more snugly than any glove ever could. His hands are warm, and he when he squeezes it feels like  _ forever.  _

Akira keeps the half of Goro’s long since shattered mask on his person as if...it’s worth keeping. 

Goro hates him. 

He tries to tell him that a lot in their last moments together, hoping that the lies he tells are as believable as they’ve always been. He knows they aren’t, he knows he has broken things in a way that feels nearly irreparable. 

And Goro doesn’t go running back when things...continue for him. 

He doesn’t change his name, just redefines it. He spends his nights sitting in his cheap apartment dismantling the things he helped build one agonizing brick at a time. He stops drinking coffee and starts drinking tea, gets a part time job to have something to do while he tries to go to school at the same time. He doesn’t know what he wants to do with his life after every stain Shido left has been painstakingly scrubbed out. 

He studies psychology and starts going to therapy, putting the decision off for later. 

He makes his own personal peace with his...everything with the Metaverse. That’s what he has to do on his own, individualize his targets even though that hurts more than anything, and let go of the numbness that has consumed him slowly but surely ever since he lost his mother. 

And he talks to his therapist about his mother in small amounts, his father in broad strokes, about Akira in the big picture, and the empty space in himself where there was always purpose and meaning. His therapist walks him through grief, through coping, and gives him something gentle but logical in the idea that life doesn’t need to have a purpose to be meaningful. 

He starts exercising again, goes on regular walks, and starts keeping plants in his apartment. 

He graduates university with a degree he still isn’t sure what he wants to do with. 

And somehow he ends up back in Tokyo as a probation officer. He moves into a slightly better apartment and starts righting some things that have always come across as  _ wrong  _ to him. 

He pulls on a pair of gloves the first time he shows up to Leblanc for some coffee before he has to go pore over case files for his new client. Sojiro takes one look at him, sighs, and makes him the same coffee as always. 

It’s the first cup of coffee Goro has had in years, considering he really couldn’t stand anything instant after being spoiled on Leblanc’s for so long. That and him trying to change himself, but he missed the coffee too much to not visit and fall back into old habits. 

“How have you been?” Sojiro asks him casually. 

“Busy. Extremely...busy.” 

“Does Akira know you’re here? Does he even know you’re alive?” 

Goro considers playing dumb, but then he really doesn’t want to get on Sojiro’s bad side. Besides, it’s not like he was planning on staying away forever. 

But there were things he needed to figure out by himself. The things he’s done for himself the past few years were only things  _ he  _ could do. 

And Akira doesn’t know how to let go, and Goro didn’t have the patience to teach him as they were. 

“He doesn’t. I apologize for coming here first, I suppose I was expecting him behind the counter with you. He must be in college though, right?”

Sojiro glances at the clock, then shakes his head. 

“Well he’s a little late, normally he would be here. He actually decided not to go to college. He’s working for me full time now, family business and all.” Sojiro rubs the back of his neck. “I told him to go to business school, but he insisted he could learn enough from me.” 

Goro hides his surprise by drinking his coffee. He wraps his head around each of Sojiro’s words. 

If Akira didn’t go to college, but he’s working here...he’s here? He’s in Tokyo, then. Family business? Is Sojiro joking or being literal? Did Akira  _ ever  _ go back or did he end up staying? 

Is Akira taking over Leblanc? 

He always looked natural and happy behind the counter, but Akira was better than even Goro at putting on masks, so he could never tell if that was real or not. 

If he’s here, why isn’t he  _ here?  _

Akira is hardly late for things. Tonight of all nights? 

“I see,” he says. 

“What’re you doing? Still a Detective?”

“Not exactly. I mean I’m still in criminal justice, but I went to college and ended up. A probation officer.”

“Because--”

“Because I didn’t know what else to do with my degree,” Goro insists, before Sojiro can say it. 

“Sure, kid.” 

Goro drinks the rest of his coffee so Sojiro has to busy himself making a refill. 

But of course, the universe has never been kind to Goro. 

The bell above the door rings, and Goro just barely turns enough to catch dark hair before the door is slammed shut and he watches the figure retreat back into the darkness outside. 

“I probably should’ve tried to warn him,” Sojiro comments. 

“I’ll go get him.” 

“Should you do that?”

According to everything Goro knows about psychology, the answer is almost certainly not. If anyone, Sojiro should go get him to come back here so Goro can talk to him in a familiar and comfortable space. If possible, Goro should honestly leave and come back when Akira is ready to reach out to him. 

“I’ll be right back,” Goro promises, already standing. 

There are a few places Akira could’ve gone, but Goro checks the laundromat first because some part of him already knew Akira would be huddled up on the floor, like he’s trying to disappear. 

“Why did you leave?” Akira asks quietly. 

Goro is four steps and a half away, having barely walked inside before Akira noticed him. He has his face buried in his knees, and yet he knew anyway. 

It’s been five years and Akira can still pick his footsteps out even with his arms over his head, half pressed over his ears. 

“You were in jail when I woke up,” Goro says. 

Four steps away, with a slight shuffle forward just to make sure Akira can hear him. Judging by the way his body curls into itself harder, he can hear him just fine. 

“You’d know when I got out. You could’ve visited me. You could’ve left a note, you could’ve told me...you have no idea what you do to me, Akechi.”

“Are we really at the point where you’d call me Akechi?” 

“I’m mad at you, okay? You don’t understand.” 

Goro steps forward, only three more between him and Akira. Akira shifts backwards more to make it four again. 

“Do you hate me?” Goro asks. 

He’s cornered Akira here, which can’t be good for this kind of conversation. He knows that, but he also feels like they can afford some liberties with one another. 

“Yes. I’ve hated you since you left.”

“I see.” 

Goro takes two steps at once, shortening the distance to a simple two steps. He watches the way Akira responds to it, so pained and unsure. Akira can’t move back anymore though, his back is to the wall. 

He kneels, putting them easily on level ground. 

“Talk to me,” Goro offers. “I’m here to listen now.” 

“You were...beautiful. Well spoken, powerful, successful. You saw me, and I suspected you already at that point, but I let you blindside me anyway. Goddamn, if I didn’t really...fall for you. The way you looked at me, the way you looked, the face I saw beneath the mask.” 

Akira lifts his head slightly now, but he doesn’t look at Goro. He looks straight down, avoiding his gaze as if that makes things any harder or easier on either of them. Goro watches a spot on the wall next to Akira’s face and just listens. 

“I trusted you,” he admits, looking sick with the truth. “It was an ill advised move on my part, but I trusted you and I let that...I let that get in the way. I was stupid, I let you use me just like you were supposed to because I loved you. I actually looked up to you, how fucking naive is that? I thought you got out when you were more trapped than I ever was the whole time!” 

Goro has forced Akira into a position where he can’t retreat into himself any more than he already has, and so instead everything is forced out. Goro shifts a half step back and watches Akira shift forward to make up for it. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Sorry doesn’t make it better!” Akira slams his fist against the nearest dryer. 

It makes a loud thump in the otherwise silent space, and Goro sighs out a breath. Goro smooths a hand over the surface to make sure it isn’t dented. 

“I know that. That’s why I didn’t come back.” 

“Why did you make that choice for me? I had a right to have a say!” 

“I didn’t do it for you, Akira.” 

Akira’s anger melts off of him like it was never there in the first place. Goro sees it slide off of his shoulders, gone in the moment before he can even blink. 

“Didn’t you want to come back?” he presses. 

“Of course. But we were never going to change trying to do it together. I wouldn’t have enough room, you would be too afraid to do what you best...taking risks. Tell me we were good for each other, look me in the eyes and tell me we wouldn’t have torn one another to shreds.” 

Akira stares a hole into the ground. He refuses to look at Goro still. 

“I threw your glove away,” Akira murmurs. 

“When?” 

“A couple of weeks ago. Not long. I’m sorry I can’t return it.” 

“Don’t be sorry. That’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time.” 

Goro pulls his gloves off, one finger at a time. He watches Akira watch him, as each point of contact is erased until it’s just the gloves laying limp in his palm. 

“Do you know why I wore gloves today?”

“Because you knew you’d see me?”

Goro laughs softly, and he shakes his head. 

“I had no idea you’d be here. I was fairly certain you wouldn’t be, actually. No, I wore gloves today because it’s cold out. And my hands always get colder than the rest of my body, so I brought them with me so they wouldn’t freeze. Gloves are just gloves now, Akira.” 

Akira leans closer, shifting to his knees so there’s barely a half step between them. He reaches up with his bare hand and brushes his knuckles against Goro’s face, gently. 

Goro lets it happen, just because it’s Akira. 

“When…” Akira laughs a little, shocked. “Since when have you had freckles?” 

“Since always.”

Akira takes the gloves from his hand, shoving them in his pocket. 

“Stealing my gloves again?” Goro sighs. 

“No. Well, sort of. I’m going to throw them away.”

“I just told you--”

“I’ll get you proper winter gloves! These are plain ones, they aren’t going to keep your hands warm anyway.”

Akira’s glasses have thick lenses, Goro is close enough to see now. 

“Don’t tell me you actually need these now,” Goro says, taking them to look at. 

“Hey! I do need those to see, you can’t steal them anymore.” 

Goro fits them over his face, a little surprised to see that his vision does blur as he looks through them. He supposes...a lot changes in five years. 

Akira snatches his glasses back and puts them back on with a slight glare in his direction. 

“So you’re taking over Leblanc after all?” Goro asks, veering their topic in a new direction. 

“Yeah. It’s what I decided I wanted. It makes me happy, and I sort of realized that’s what mattered.” 

“See?” Goro cradles Akira’s face in both of his hands. “You came out just fine without me. And now I can promise you I’m not going anywhere and mean it with everything I am.” 

He knocks Akira’s glasses a little higher on his face and kisses the mark from them on the bridge of his nose. 

Goro isn’t actually sure who closes the last half step of distance, he can’t tell who moves forward first. But Akira’s hands slide up his arms and around his neck, and Goro slides his down, around Akira’s middle. 

And they hug. Knelt there in the laundromat in the dark, Goro holds Akira tightly and is held in turn. 

They’ve kissed and held hands and Goro has raised a gun at him more than once. They have played chess and talked poison to one another. Goro has faked every second of a relationship with him and then pretended he didn’t feel any of it when he figured it would be better if Akira didn’t know how he really felt. Akira deceived him in return, and they have hurt each other in the sharpest of ways possible. 

He has loved Akira more than anything else for a long time, and this is the first time they’ve ever hugged. 

Akira’s hand moves further up to cradle the back of his head, tangle in his hair in a gesture that is unbelievably fond. Goro presses the sides of their face close together and marvels in the sensation of the warmth. The side of Akira’s glasses press uncomfortably against him, but he doesn’t dare move. 

“When did you get so mature?” Akira asks, chin resting over his shoulder. 

“When I finally decided to go to therapy for the first time in my life.” 

“The first time I went to therapy my therapist turned into a god and tried to rewrite reality. He gave me even  _ more  _ traumatic experiences to get messed up over. Why’d I get the short end of the stick?” 

Goro laughs, pressing on Akira’s back so they fit closer together. Warmth bleeds between them, real and soft. 

“What do we do now?” Akira murmurs. 

“Let’s go back to Leblanc for now. It’s fucking  _ freezing.”  _

Akira stands first, and he helps Goro once he’s up. 

Goro feels the fire of competition flare up familiarly when he sees that they’re close to the same height now. He thinks Akira might be taller, but that makes him too angry to think about so he ignores it entirely.

Akira immediately throws Goro’s gloves away, before they even step outside. 

But as they walk back to Leblanc, Goro’s left hand is fairly warm held in Akira’s right. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, feel free to come talk to me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Elsey_8)


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